


Lost Stars

by captainoutoftime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, i am not handling them writing jane out of the MCU well, this is just sad!porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12027303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainoutoftime/pseuds/captainoutoftime
Summary: A king is not a king without his queen.





	Lost Stars

There’s a crash in the lab, and then silence. He’s on his feet before the tinkling of glass has stopped. It’s not a terribly uncommon occurrence, but it’s usually accompanied by loud cursing, or at least a weary sigh. He can’t help that he worries for her, his Jane. She’s clumsy and forgets herself in her work more often than not, and though she’s feistier than anyone he knows, she’s delicate and mortal. Thor doesn’t say that to her, because it makes her pout at him, but he thinks it nonetheless. 

He’s prepared for glass on the floor, Jane’s grimace as he helps her to clean it up, the slight daze in her eyes as she tells him about what she’s been working on. Thor has always loved that about her, the way she lights up when she talks about her research. She’s passion and starlight and the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen, and to top it all off, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure to behold. As he opens the door, he’s hoping that he’s not going to spend the remainder of the night cleaning out cuts on her hands.

It’s the window, smashed in. The way the glass has fractured means it was an entrance and not something being hurled out-  _ intruder _ . “Jane?” His heart is racing as he’s turning the corner and then- and then he sees her, and it feels like he doesn’t have a heart to beat anymore, that his lungs have nothing to breathe, and no air to call to her.

Her form is limp on the floor, her chestnut hair framing her face like a halo, her doe eyes wide, wide, frightened. He drops to his knees like he’s been felled by a blow, landing beside her in the pool of her blood that’s spreading over the white tile. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but all she can do is gape, a tear of red slipping out of the corner of her mouth. There’s a hole in her chest the size of his fist, but it’s not just a hole. It’s a shape, not a shape, it’s- it’s a rune.  _ King.  _ This is for him, this wound. Someone has stamped his title into her chest.  _ King.  _ He can’t look, can’t look. It’s not there, this is a horrible dream, and he’ll wake soon from it. 

She manages a tiny whimper, and he’s jolted by the sound like he’s been stabbed by it, just like her. 

“Jane, Jane, no,” he manages to gasp out. “Jane? Jane, I’m going to- I’ll fix this, Jane, just-”

Her trembling fingers are sticky with blood as he clutches them. Her lungs are mangled, and her heart is destroyed, completely destroyed. She’s afraid. He can see it in her eyes, she’s afraid. “Shh, my love, it will be well,” he promises. There’s a tiny twitch of a smile, and her eyes go blank.

He thinks he’s screaming but he’s not sure. He’s not even sure who he would scream for. Heimdall, maybe. Mother, like he’s a child again, a desperate, frightened child. Jane. Maybe he’s screaming for Jane. Maybe he’s just screaming, because he doesn’t know what else he can do. There are footsteps on the stairs and voices in the hall, but he doesn’t know if anything of that is real outside the scream that’s tearing him apart from the inside.

Jane is slumped in his arms, so soft against him. He holds her close to his chest and rocks her, so gently, so gently. He’s closed her eyes like she’s sleeping and she still smells like she always does- coffee and laundry and whiteboard markers. The kisses he touches to her forehead feel just like they always do, and while he holds her, he can pretend that the stars are still where they are supposed to be, that his Polaris is still shining bright for him.

 

“It’s called Polaris, or the North Star,” she had explained to him, curled up on his lap, cheek against his arm as they stared at the sky. “People used to use it to navigate.” 

“Because it’s constant?” he asked, tucking a stray piece of her hair back behind her ear. The wind was cool for her, but his body temperature was warmer than hers, and he’d swaddled her up in a blanket. They’re waiting for a meteor shower. Jane never tires of seeing them, and he never tires of seeing their light reflected in her eyes. 

Jane nodded. “You can always find your way home, if you can find Polaris. Or, I mean. Maps work too.” She offers him one of those smirking, half-smiles that makes her brown eyes sparkle. 

He’d laughed, nuzzling his scruff against her neck just to make her squirm and smack at him to get him to stop. 

 

He holds her close, cradled safe in his arms, because he  _ needs _ that way home, needs to know that his guiding light will be there for him when he needs it. “Jane, Jane,” he begs. “Jane, please. Jane?” She’s so still, so quiet, and his breaths are starting to shake. “Jane, open your eyes.” If he can just wake her, if he can just see one more smile, if he can just get her to say that she loves him one more time, then it will all be well, as he promised her it would be. “Jane, please, please, Jane, please.”

Someone is sobbing and it’s not him. The heartbeats in the room are Dr. Banner’s, and Stark’s, and Steven’s. Jane’s is missing,  _ why is hers missing, where is her heartbeat-  _

There are words in the air and he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he can’t hear them, he won’t. His cape hangs heavy on his shoulders, and he’s not sure when it got there, he must have called Mjolnir in his panic. Thor takes it off and wraps her up in the red fabric, carefully, so carefully. He cradles her closer, holding her close enough that she can hear his heartbeat, if she listens. She likes to do that, when she wakes at night. Thor is a heavy sleeper and sometimes when her memories of the Aether or her worries about work or even her bad dreams keep her awake, he won’t stir. He’d asked her to wake him, but she’d only smiled and said she didn’t need to, and that the steady sound of his heartbeat lulled her back to sleep. 

He wants her to wake back up but if he can’t make her eyes open, he can at least ensure that her sleep is peaceful, that she’s resting easy. Drops of water are falling on the cape, and he brushes them aside, not caring where they come from, as long as they don’t disturb his Polaris. There are sirens in his ears and he clutches her closer to shield her from the noise, sirens and soft voices and sobs and he just hopes they won’t upset her. “Shh, shh,” he whispers. “Hush, now.”

Steven cups his shoulder, squeezes gently. “Thor? C’mere. Let’s get her settled,” he suggests, and his voice sounds rough, like it’s going to break or just has. 

Thor does not move. Jane is settled, she’s settled right with him, and he’s not going to leave her. After he returned the first time, after all the hell of the convergence had reached its end, he had sworn that he would never leave her again, not unless she cast him out. He won’t break his promise, not for anything. “I promised I would never leave her again,” he says, and his voice comes out oddly calm. “I won’t leave her again.”

Steven is silent. There’s a squeak of wheels. A bed- a medical bed, he’s not sure what the name for it is here, and Thor hugs her tighter to his chest as strangers in white clothing enter the room. “I promised,” he says, louder. It’s too loud, for this little room. “I promised her, no! NO!” For the first time, his gaze leaves her face and he finds his friend’s, tear streaked and horrified. “I won’t! I can’t, I swore! I swore to her!”

Thor can’t get a breath in properly and he’s not sure why. He must have been stabbed. Somewhere vital that his armor does not protect against. Heart, lungs. Something vital is missing and he can’t breathe and Steven has an arm around his shoulders, as if to brace him. “I promised her, I- I promised her.” He’s sobbing. He’s not sure when that started. He’s not sure of anything anymore. He’s not sure if he can ever stop the hitching of his chest. “I can’t leave her like this, I can’t leave her alone.”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Thor. It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna- you’re not alone. C’mon. Let’s- let’s get her settled, okay? It’s time.” 

“No! No, no!” His grip is protective now, clutching her tightly, as if afraid that Steven will take her away. “No, I had more time than this! I- I was supposed to have more _ time _ ,” he pleads. “She was going to- and we had- I could have given her the apples, she could have stayed with me, if she wanted to, she could- we were supposed to have more than- more-” Vision blurring, breaths staccato and shallow and he can’t, _ he can’t he can’t he had time, he was counting on having more time he was going to have more than this, more time than this- _

The hospital bed is so big. “She won’t fit,” he gasps. “It’s- she’s too small, it’s too big for her.” Her body is like a child’s in his arms, she can’t reach the top shelves so he does it for her, and she’ll swim on that bed, she can’t go there, she can’t. “She’s too small,” he whispers, and Steven nods. 

“Okay. Okay. How about the stretcher? Is that okay?” 

It’s not. Nothing is. It’s not okay. “I’m taking her home. She needs to come home.” To Asgard, and Valhalla afterwards, so that he can join her.

 

Jane is sent to Valhalla in a shower of stars, still wrapped in his cape, to keep her warm. Thor does not touch Mjolnir from the place he set it down in her lab. He does not try calling it, not even as he tears her assailant limb from limb. It is a strangely emptying task, and does not make him feel like he has gotten his vengeance. Rather, he feels like his last bit of purpose has been leached from him

He does not call Mjolnir, because he is terrified that if he does, it will not come. The woman who made him worthy is gone where he cannot reach her, and he is afraid that he does not deserve the hammer in the meantime. That’s how he’s viewing it. The meantime. Life is the meantime, until he sees her again. He will see her again. He will find his way back to his Polaris. He will find his way home. 


End file.
